I should have considered it wrong to have finished the Frieze before the room for its accommodation and the funds for its completion were available.

A work of art comes only from inside a human being.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

I sense a scream passing through nature. I painted ... the clouds as actual blood. The colour shrieked.

I find it difficult to imagine an afterlife, such as Christians, or at any rate many religious people, conceive it, believing that the conversations with relatives and friends interrupted here on earth will be continued in the hereafter.

For as long as I can remember I have suffered from a deep feeling of anxiety which I have tried to express in my art.

Your face encompasses the beauty of the whole earth. Your lips, as red as ripening fruit, gently part as if in pain. It is the smile of a corpse. Now the hand of death touches life. The chain is forged that links the thousand families that are dead to the thousand generations to come.